Camaraderie
by TheZelScribbles
Summary: Forged friendships, fights blown out of proportion, and manipulative games, practically scream Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Weasley. This is their story.
1. Dawn

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot.

* * *

 **THE PROLOGUE**

* * *

"So that's little Scorpius. _Make sure you beat him in every test_ , _Rosie_. Thank god you've inherited your mother's brains."

And maybe she didn't know it then, but it was the start of something that would indubitably whirl her life around. She looks up, amused. Silver irises glint back, a pale eyebrow arched in challenge. And in all her years of wisdom, though not many, Rose has learnt to spot a challenge when she saw one.

* * *

The scarlet engine, teeming with enthusiastic children waving away at their sentimental parents, holds a promise for her, a promise that hints at the adventure that she was to go on.

Turning towards her parents, she hugs them tightly, an unspoken sentence of how much she will miss them. They bid her goodbye, a suspicious shimmer to their eyes, but not without ruffling her already disheveled coiffure. Her large trunk is levitated onto the train with a flick of Hermione Granger's wrist, and looking back at the hustle of the station a last time, she steps onto the train. It may have seemed ordinary at the time, but of course, as it always happens, it was nothing of the sort.

The steaming train slowly pulls off the platform, a few stragglers sprinting to catch up to it. The panes are full of eager faces pressed against the glass, excited smiles adorning the faces of most. Rose is immediately sucked into the chaos, her colossal family trapping her in their excitement. James is playing to a large audience of wide eyed eleven year olds, his chest puffed out in his second year glory.

Albus stands silently to the side, his unkempt hair falling into his worried emerald eyes. A reassuring arm drapes across his drooping shoulders, and he meets the smiling aquamarine eyes of his best friend and cousin. Tugging him along, she scours for a compartment that has retained its peace, and call it destiny, but the duo enter one with the infamous Scorpius Malfoy as its only occupant.

Al's eyes widen, evidently recognizing the trademark blonde mane. A futile tug to pull Rose back, but she marches on, an eerily sly smirk painted across her features. A proffered arm, an elitist refusal. If anything, Rose's smirk only grows, giving way to a slight chuckle.

"Rose Weasley."  
A brief glance of bemusement. Then,  
"Scorpius. Scorpius Malfoy."  
 _"Don't get too friendly with him."  
_ Aquamarine eyes twinkle at the irony, but nonetheless, she ploughs on.  
"What would you say to an offer of friendship?"  
His eyes are a calculating grey, she notices, and it's evident by how he eyes her in suspicion. A strange expression crosses his features, and he nods pensively.  
"Friends."

As soon as she returns to her seat, Al pulls her aside, angrily whispering to her about her insane offer of friendship to Malfoy, of all people. Rose hushes him, her face still holding a satisfied little smile.  
"I like to scout out my rivals, Al. And Scorpius Malfoy isn't a person you make an enemy of." Albus, to his credit, goes silent, but she knows that he still holds puzzlement over her impulsive decision.

An annoyingly snide whisper interjects, "What, Rosie, don't tell me you actually talked to Malfoy. You know how they are." Though he would furiously deny it, James' eyes hold a hint of worry, and for the most part, Rose knows that her cousin isn't of the bad sort.

"Of course I did. I don't suppose it should be surprising you," she retorts, a hint of mischief sparkling behind her smile.

* * *

The train ride is uneventful, and she slips into her robes as she nears her destination. Completely at calm, she sketches in her diary, while Al lightly snores beside her, having given in to sleep after she soothed his frazzled nerves.

Hagrid, ever cheerful, guides them till the little boats, their lanterns bobbing over the pitch black water. As the turrets come into view, she gasps, for the splendour overwhelms her, the medieval castle overshadowing even the marvelous scenery that that part of Scotland has to offer.

A woman stands tall, her stature demanding respect among even the most spirited of them. Minerva McGonagall, Rose recalls. A short walk, then a battered hat, singing of the Houses, building up to a crescendo. Names called, houses and destinies decided, house tables in an uproar and applause ringing in their ears.  
" _Rose Weasley!_ " And she walks, dignified, aware of how profound this moment is.

The stool is uncomfortable, the hat caging her rampant tresses, and then she hears it. An ancient old voice, speaking to her with the wisdom of generations and the mighty founders, "Ah, a Weasley." She scrunches her nose at this blatant dismissal of her originality.

"Your mother was almost a Ravenclaw, you know. She chose bravery, shaped the future. So tell me, little one, what choice will you make?" The word 'Ravenclaw' reverberates through her head, a slight pang of happiness making its home. But before she can contemplate a thing, the voice rings clearly through the hall. "RAVENCLAW!"

She shrugs, for she knows that it was the right decision. Half aware of the single word that has begun the shaping of her destiny, she makes her way towards the whooping house clad in azure.

A seat sits, empty, awaiting her presence, and she makes her way towards it, her mind moving towards the delectable food littering the humongous table. The ceiling is a brilliant indigo, slight hints of silver mist shrouding the corners, a twinkle here and there. And she comes to understand why it is called the "Great Hall". McGonagall welcomes them, an emerald green sheen to her impeccable robes. Slowly, she turns towards her own housemates. A brilliant pair of grey staring back at her, a slight tremor of the chair as she jumps back in slight surprise.

 _Hogwarts_.

* * *

Alright, so please do read and review! Promise I will be quick with my updates.  
Edit: A/N: Alright, so a big thanks *and a cuddly soft toy* to the two reviewers [Guest & HopeWithinDarkness] who have helped me better this amateur attempt at writing. *Sniffs at how profound this moment is*.


	2. Camouflaged

The beginning of everything.

The first day of Rose's new life dawned bright and clear, and she sat primly amongst students clad in silken azure, listening inattentively to Lysander yammer away at his twin, Lorcan Scamander.

Ravenclaw, though still not devoid of its Weasleys and family friends, was still a fairly lonely place. A tiny voice in her head squeaked its appreciation of this fact, while the rest of her strongly resented her separation from her boisterous cousins. Oh, well.

Shaken out of despondent thoughts, Rose looked up sheepishly to see a disapproving Headmistress McGonagall. Apologizing briefly for her inattentiveness, she took her proffered timetable with a thin lipped smile. As the headmistress made her way towards the second years, Rose took the opportunity to glance hungrily at the spread laid before her, a source of enticing smells wafting towards her nostrils.

When Rose could suddenly feel the cold chill of loneliness creeping back up her spine again, she resolutely decided to look around the Great Hall for Victoire. Upon finding her in hurried conversation with an ombre-haired Head Boy, she turned to glance at the other occupants of the dinner tables, familiar faces that could somehow reduce the ache she felt at being all alone in an enormous castle. And she could find none.

Her best friend and cousin, Albus, sat happily munching on crumpets and bagels at the Slytherin table, already having made the best of acquaintances with Noah Zabini and Arran Louis. Her eleven year old self could not think of any possible outcome where Albus would continue to keep her around as a best friend, when he now had the two boys for company. Of course, she wasn't jealous.

James seemingly had forgotten his sadness of the night before at having his younger brother being sorted into a different house, and now sat with his arm loosely hanging around Roxanne, despite her failed attempts to push the nuisance away.

The hall was crowded, and classes were due to start in a little over half an hour. She looked around one last time. Her eyes finally met a pair of silver orbs, flashing with misery bearing likeness to her own, but gone the next moment. His face was wiped clean again, like a blank slate, and no matter how much Rose blinked, she could not conjure up those flashes of emotion that she thought she had seen.

It still seemed to her that he looked awfully lonely in that corner of his, surrounded by hordes of people, but yet not having anybody lend him a passing smile.

 _He is your friend now._

Shaking her head resolutely, she made her way down to him. His surprised smile, no matter how hard he tried to conceal it, was bright enough to light up the whole room. After a bit of small talk with the harried blonde, she soon made her way towards the Charms classroom, the first milestone of her Hogwarts career.

* * *

"Swish and flick, yes, that's right, you're doing it perfectly, Miss Weasley and Mister Malfoy!" Professor Flitwick muttered proudly to himself, while a curl of irritation wrapped around Rose's mind. The feather they were supposed to be levitating, no longer the subject of her concentration, plummeted to the scratched wood of her desk.

Malfoy's feather was still up, though.

She needed to do _something_.

"Hey, Malfoy, isn't that feather the colour of your hair?"

A harmless question.

His carefully schooled aristocratic features slowly shifted into a hint of indignation, and she smirked, tasting her victory. Then, to her surprise, he looked askance at her smirk, and let out a chuckle at her sly remark.

The feather, a spectacular wallflower in their game, had dropped a bit at Malfoy's loss of concentration, but had levitated higher once more, as he realized Rose Weasley's modus operandi.

Warily, they both thought: _It's going to be a long year._

* * *

The next time she met the bane of her existence, was in a crowded hallway. Hurriedly stuffing her book of spells into her poor, abused hemp bag, she made her way slowly towards the dungeons for potions.

But as luck dictates, she was meant to be late. Malfoy's eyes widened a split second before he collided with a muttered _oof_ , a slightly frustrated bushy mop of ginger, but alas.

It was a mess. Inkpots were everywhere, broken glass like shards glistening with dark venom, for Rose always carried extras in her bag. The carefully repaired spine of _Hogwarts: A History_ had disappeared into the trick step of a nearby staircase, and Rose's hair tie had suffered martyrdom in its valiant attempt to contain her tresses, and instead chose to snap in two and embrace Malfoy's finely structured nose instead.

Malfoy's eyes burned coldly with a barely suppressed temper. But Rose? Rose's hair had become frizzier, almost crackling with the electricity of her burning gaze and anger. A clash was unavoidable.

And just as Rose had begun to wave her wand in the motions for _Anteoculatia_ , does Rose see it. Malfoy's eyes glaze over subtly, and he seems to visibly deflate before her eyes. He slowly raises his wand, and Rose wonders if this would be the moment he chooses to attack an unsuspecting her, but he just summons the spine of her book and hands it over to her.

"I'm sorry." He whispers almost inaudibly, and leaves, his footsteps thundering in her subconscious, while her face continues to hold a bewildered expression for the rest of the day.

* * *

Rose spent hours wondering what could have come over Malfoy, for him to have suddenly withdrawn from their debacle. Could it have been James that Malfoy had seen and blanched because of? Or could it have been Professor McGonagall? She thought up numerous theories, but her questions remained unanswered.

She'd always known that anger went against self-control. Whatever it was he was hiding, he wouldn't be able to keep from spilling it for much longer. She was going to do what she did best.

There was only one way to find out.

* * *

"Hey, hey, Malfoy!"  
Scorpius remained silent, walking forward purposefully in order to ignore the ginger menace running to keep up with him.

"Malfoy!"

His lips thinned into a straight line, but he managed to keep himself from scowling and scaring away the Weasley who just wouldn't stop annoying him.

"Malfoy, Professor McGonagall called for you!"  
Scorpius stopped in his tracks. Slowly turning towards Rose, he apprehensively whispered, "What?"  
Rose now danced gleefully through her stance. "You're in trouble, Malfoy. She saw you the other day, provoking me by the dungeons."  
Malfoy's eyes, though tinged with a hint of suspicion, grew wide enough to confirm his worst fears. "B-but, I didn't do anything! It was _you_!"

Rose shrugged nonchalantly. "Anyway, she's called for you, and she'll fly into an awful rage if you're tardy as well."

Scorpius muttered desperately to himself, but he concentrated on moving his feet in order to drag the dead weight that was now his self. One foot in front of the other, and soon enough, he stood in front of Headmistress McGonagall's office.

Rapping with the brass knocker, the door was soon opened, and he was taken up by a moving staircase. A surprised McGonagall sat in her office, looking askance at his presence.

"Professor, y-you called?"  
"Of course not." Professor McGonagall sharply retorted. Her confused features slowly turned to disbelieving.

"Surely, you must realize that you shall be awarded detention for this? Being out of class without reason?"  
"But Professor? I thought you called me?"  
"Mr. Malfoy, I assure you I did not. Slacking off class is not acceptable, I'm afraid."  
"I was told to-"  
She looked a little mollified, now. "Mr. Malfoy, I'm sure that there must have been a reason for why you have come up here. But unreasonable behavior is punishable by the rules, and I'm afraid I cannot make an exception."

Scorpius' face fell. McGonagall rose from her seat and walked up to where he was standing, crestfallen, his blond hair falling into his overcast grey eyes.

"Scorpius, dear, don't you have Herbology right now? Run along quickly, and I'll write a note to Professor Longbottom explaining your absence. You'll still have to serve detention on Friday, though, I'm afraid." She smiled at the student, but he did not return the gesture.

Muttering a stiff "Thank you", which was completely unnecessary, he walked out of the office and into the corridor beyond.

* * *

It was lunch time, and even the wafting aroma of pudding could not cheer Scorpius up. The thought of having been given a detention on the second day back made him hang his head in shame. His face remained dark and stoic, his eyes a remembrance of a stormy sky.

He finished up his meal quickly, and thought of spending the next hour before class in the solace of the library, where he could be left alone with his thoughts and not be interrupted by the boisterous cackles of diners.

But, as luck would have it, he _was_ interrupted. A beaming Rose Weasley came up to him, and the first words out of her smiling mouth were, "So, when do you have detention, then?"

Scorpius' eyes flashed. Rose winced a little, "That bad, 'eh? Don't worry, it's okay, you know."

He wished to curse and scream at the little redhead, but his own promise to himself, that dark night before he left for Hogwarts, kept haunting him. He would not rise to the bait. He would rise above everyone's expectations. He would not be whatever heinous monster they expected him to be. And if that included not hexing a little bug who deserved it, he wouldn't.

Ignoring the bright red of her hair, he slowly got up from his seat, and made his way towards the exit.

But Rose Weasley hated being ignored. So she did what she could.

She called out loudly, "Hey, Malfoy!" to which Malfoy slowly turned around in disbelief, wondering what on Earth she could possibly want now.

He was immediately met with a treacle tart to the face. As the syrup slowly slid down his face, he could vaguely make out the laughing whoops and cheers of the Weasley clan around the hall amidst his anger.

But shoving his anger away, he ignored what his senses were screaming at him to do. He barked out a short, fake laugh, and pretended to be amused. _He would not rise to the bait._

From within the safety of his robe pocket, he subtly twirled his wand and scourgified himself.

And slowly turning around, he casually deadpanned a last remark to Weasley behind him. "Good one, Weasley."

And even as he swiftly left the Great Hall, he couldn't help but catch a glance at the disbelievingly furious Weasley he'd left behind. He smirked to himself.

* * *

Rose was left behind in the hall, gaping to herself. Slowly, everyone grew bored with the lack of distraction once Malfoy had left, and turned back to their own idle conversations.

But Professor McGonagall wasn't done yet.

"Miss Weasley." Her voice remained low and threatening.  
"I absolutely cannot condone such manners and conduct, and that too, at dinner, and I'm afraid that you will have to be punished." She silenced a protesting Rose with a sharp look.

"Detention on Friday, with Mr. Malfoy, the very boy that you seem to have a vendetta against. Good luck, Miss Weasley." And with those parting words, she swiftly turned around, her emerald robes billowing behind her.

Albus' worried eyes met her across the hall. How his comforting emerald eyes bore a resemblance to the grave professor that had just thundered out a death sentence, struck her as a peculiar irony.

She couldn't help but feel that Albus' eyes held a fair bit of chastisement and disappointment as well, in her own caprice.

He wished that she wouldn't meddle with an innocent bloke.

And she decided that she wouldn't.

 _Famous last words._

* * *

Friday morning dawned bright and tranquil, in clear contrast to the haphazardly furious thoughts of both Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Weasley.

The incidents of two days ago whizzed through both of their heads at the speed of light, and they eventually decided upon stowing away their anger for the latter half of the day.

They had classes to attend.

* * *

Potions, was meant to be a quiet affair, what with the troublemakers being preoccupied with their own thoughts. But alas.

Professor Roche stood scribbling on the board, jotting down the ingredients for the Boil Cure in impossibly curly script. Clapping his hands together once he was finished, he boomed in his loud voice, "Alright, get to work, young 'uns!"

There was a slight ruffle of pages as everyone immediately began about preparing their cauldrons and textbooks, for no one dared seek the wrath of the short-tempered Professor.

Slightly pot-bellied, and with a receding hairline, the red faced, and bulbous nosed professor didn't look like much. And on the first day of lessons, it had been this misconception that had awarded at least a couple of students, detentions for two consecutive weekends.

Now, scratching his scantily covered head, Roche muttered to himself. "I must be forgetting something." Then, checking his day planner, he yelled, "Aha!" so loud, that at least a dozen students busily lighting their cauldrons had a nice meet-and-greet with the cold stone floor of the dungeons.

"You must be sitting according to your new seating arrangement!"

Everybody in the class collectively groaned. Rose could only hope that since she was sharing this lesson with the Slytherins, she could get Albus as a partner.

Sharing a hopeful glance with Albus across the room, she turned towards her own partner, Neveah, exchanging a bewildered smile, as if to convey her disappointment at being separated from her current partner.

The professor caught her attention again, and she leaned forward to better hear what he was saying. "I will be making new seating patterns every semester, which means that you shall be getting a new partner after Christmas. Don't get too comfortable, then. Right," he coughed a little, "so, this semester, you shall be seated with your own house, but as I've said before, and I reiterate, do not get too comfortable with such a pattern of seating. I may shake it up before this term ends."

Muttering a despondent hum of approval, Rose realized that she had no chances of getting to be potions partners with Al.

Her only hope was that she would get Neveah as a partner once more, but it seemed rather hopeful and futile. And of course, there was the rather important detail about her being a Slytherin.

"Albus Severus Potter."

Albus' green eyes looked up anxiously, waiting to see who he'd be partnered up with.

"Neveah de Agnes." And lo and behold, the short, sleek haired brunette beside Rose gathered her stuff and went to go sit beside Albus, sparing her a last sweet smile.

She sighed.

Who would she get, now?

"Sandra Peterson. Scorpius Malfoy."  
"Delphi Summers. Rose Weasley."

She turned in her seat to look at a short, tan female that actually, ironically, looked quite like the embodiment of summer. She was a curly blonde with glassy seaweed green eyes, and a slightly hooked nose. Rose slowly gathered her things to one side, and Delphi occupied the seat beside hers.

Their table was made for four, though, and looking around, Rose saw that Albus had already grabbed a seat two tables down. A tinkling cough interrupted Rose's searching gaze, and Rose looked up to see a girl with short, wavy caramel coloured hair.

"Excuse me, can I sit here?"  
Rose shook her head slightly, giving the hesitant girl a welcoming smile. The girl looked pleasant to her. "No, go right ahead, it's unoccupied anyway."

The girl turned to look at someone behind her, and took his hand. "Scorp, right here, I found a table for us!"

And Scorpius' eyes landed on Rose.

He averted his eyes at the speed of lightning and began desperately looking around for empty tables, but found none.

It was Scorpius' worst nightmare come true. He had already been struggling with his patience and immunity to Rose's taunts, and there was no way he'd be able to keep his oath if he sat with the annoying bint all year.

To top off the unfortunate hour, Roche was looking at him expectantly, and Scorpius didn't really wish to seek his wrath and get another detention for himself, for he had already done enough wallowing in self-pity for a lifetime.

He slowly slid into the chair beside Rose's, and lit the cauldron. Rose and Sandra volunteered to go get the ingredients, while the others lit the fire, and this was obviously a barely concealed attempt at getting away from him. Scorpius scoffed internally, for he was the one who actually had a reason to be disliking her, not the other way around.

* * *

"Pass me the porcupine quills, please," Rose muttered, in a barely-controlled tone. The boy in question continued to sift through his textbook absentmindedly.

"Malfoy," she hissed.

Scorpius jerked up violently, shaken out of his reverie, his elbow and the cauldron having an amiable meet. Or perhaps not so friendly, considering the circumstances.

The potion swooped through the air, intent on embracing its auburn-headed maker. The splattering caused a series of horrified shrieks to ring through the hall, including one from the teacher himself. A few drops generously made their way towards Malfoy's robes too, though he was busy eyeing Weasley with a mix of concealed dread and glee.

And Weasley? Weasley was rivalling her hair for the brightest shade of red.

Neither of them were surprised to see the addition of the not–so–fashionable boils to Rose's skin, having read ahead enough.

Malfoy couldn't help but feel that karma has helped him extract his revenge.

Rose thought to herself: I'm sure he did this on purpose, to exact revenge for yesterday. Now let him see what I can do!

And unlike Rose, who was supposed to be in pain, Roche shrieked, "Mister Malfoy, please accompany Miss Weasley to Madame Sauveterre."

And Malfoy passed her a sidelong glance, clearly irritated with the turn of events. He got up grumbling. "Come, Weasley", he took her elbow.

They slowly got up and left, not paying heed to the gaping glances of most of the class, including one worried Albus Potter.

* * *

Friday, the 5th of September.

In all essence, Teacher's day, but it was marked out to be the day that some of the students would curse the teachers for putting them in such an awful predicament. There was to be a minimally grandiose feast that evening, and a little fun, back in the common rooms, to commemorate both the occasion and the fact that it was a Friday, but none were so morose as Rose and Scorpius after learning this fact.

Madame Sauveterre had left her early enough, which is read as: She had chained Rose to a bed and forced-experimented on her by shoving vile potions down her throat. No one was as thankful as Rose as she sprinted out of the hospital wing, jovially whistling to herself at the thought of two days of torture finally being over. She couldn't, not in any sense of the word, understand why she had to have been kept back to ensure her safety, when the only damage that had been done were a few boils? Humph, she thought wryly to herself. Beauxabatons' graduates, and that too Veelas, could not be trusted. Merlin knows why she'd chosen to become a nurse at Hogwarts. Skipping around, she slowly made her way towards the Great Hall.

It was already lunchtime, and she'd missed a day of classes. She cursed to herself.

The tables were laid with a delicious spread of fillet fish and Yorkshire pudding and Rose's mouth watered uncontrollably. Since the concept of sitting at house tables was banished after the Second Wizarding War, she really had no idea where Al was. She was yet to make mates in her own house, and that was turning out to be quite the problem. She mentally chided herself for her inability to be social, and then upon realizing that she had gotten invariably distracted within her own thoughts, she chastised herself once more.

Spotting James' mop of jet black hair, she made her way towards the Hufflepuff table, where he was sitting with their Hufflepuff cousins, Lucy and Roxy. Grabbing a seat besides Fred, she realized that the entire Weasley clan had chosen to camp out at the Hufflepuff site today, and she spotted Al sitting somewhere near the opposite end of the table, wheedling away at Roxanne, who promptly rolled her eyes in response.

The bright red consistency of their hair amongst the yellow of the badgers stood out as a strange sight, quite like a garish image of the morning sun. Rose's stomach grumbled unhappily, interrupting her train of thought, and she decidedly began spooning mash and greens onto her plate, swallowing a morsel with a hum of contentment. In all this, Fred continued to look at her amusedly, watching her shovel a bucketful of food into one mouthful and chomp down on it hastily in order to swallow another. Decidedly unladylike, but when was Rose ever bothered with manners around her cousins?

Finishing her peas, she turned towards Fred, and snapped "What?" around a mouthful of food.

Fred grinned at her, and she rolled her eyes, scooping up a few more helpings to add to her plate. Those potions had increased her appetite, and that wasn't an excuse, of course.

"Rosie, you're such a lady, aren't you?" he chuckled.

Throwing him a dirty look, she scowled. "Freddie, you eat the same way, okay? Let me be in peace."

He raised his hands up in surrender, and let her be for a little while. She was thankful for the respite, but more importantly for the opportunity to gulp down a little more mash than she should have.

* * *

Done with her last class of the day, Rose hurriedly zipped up her bag as she unseeingly made her way towards the dungeons. Her mother's narrations told her that she would probably be scrubbing up failed potions attempts, which incidentally reminded her of her own acquittal from the Hospital Wing a few hours ago. Shaking her head of such thoughts, she slowly made her way downstairs.

And as luck would have it, she collided with the blonde haired menace that she had come to associate with the term Malfoy.

"Oh, hey, Weasley, sorry, wasn't looking where I was going." He muttered, surprised, upon seeing her.

And Rose's eyes went wide. And the thing is, no matter how hard you try, you can never be mean to a person who's being nice to you. And neither could Rose. Which is exactly what our dear Malfoy had been going for.

She ignored his greeting for a minute, and in the background, Malfoy shrugged helplessly. But guilt soon starts to eat at a person. Should she have said it back? Would it be better if she'd said it back? She thought worriedly.

"Er…yeah, I'm sorry, too." She echoed after a moment, "Wasn't looking where I was going."

Showing off his white teeth, he grinned. It had worked. "Heh, no harm done. Detention sucks, doesn't it?" he talked as he searched for something in his bag, and muttered conversationally, "I heard there was going to be piccalilli at dinner. Shame, ain't it?"

Rose, still quite perturbed by this suddenly display of amiability, agreed absent-mindedly.

And this was as well, for soon enough, they reached Professor Marquie's office, who promptly frowned upon seeing whom he'd have to supervise for that day's detention. And Rose's mood plummeted further after seeing this display of distaste.

Professor Marquie came back to inspect in an hour. They had been hard at work, trying to escape detention as soon as they could, while simultaneously excitedly discussing about the dishes that would be served at dinner. To say the least, they had worked up quite the appetite.

Looking at the rags they held in their hands, soaked with green armadillo bile, he clapped his hands together, pleased at the results.  
"You may go now, you've done a fine job mopping up."

And in a rare display of solidarity, they both leaned behind the teacher's back to make a retching face at each other, casting a disgusted glance at the foul smelling rags in their hands.

Quickly depositing their cleaning equipment with a "Thanks, professor!" they raced out and into the corridor beyond, soon collapsing and leaning into a wall out of breath, a few minutes later.

They laughed together at something that had happened a few moments ago, silly and carefree, their mature masks of disguised feelings towards each other replaced by caprice, as it should have been.

And then Scorpius suddenly froze.

Rose turned to look at her companion, throwing him a bewildered look. "Malfoy, what's wrong?"

And then she heard it. Thumping footsteps in rapid succession, and then twin heads of dishwasher brown hair rounded the corner.

Beads of sweat made their way down Scorpius' forehead.

The taller girl, with an eerily similar smirk as that of her male compatriot, turned her beady eyes towards the blonde.

"Oh, hey, Malfoy, aren't you?"

Rose could sense a slight, sinister, shift in the conversation, and couldn't really pinpoint why. The girl seemed nice enough. What did she want, and why wasn't she at the feast?

Rose figured it was only polite, and her intuition yelled at her to do so, so she stepped forward slightly and extended her hand.

"Rose Weasley. And you?"

The male, a second year, by the looks of it, snorted disdainfully but took her hand, nonetheless.

His hand was cold and grimy, almost swallowing her dainty, pale one. He grabbed at it gruffly, and she felt a cold sense of dread twisting around her heart.

"Eunice Goyle. And this is my half-sister, Ulga Parkinson-Goyle."

Rose nodded warily, trying desperately to extract her hand, but to no avail. All of a sudden, Scorpius moved like lightning and grabbed her arm, yanking it free from Goyle's grip.

Scorpius nodded shortly to them. "Right, we'll be going, then. Nice meeting you guys."

And he seized Rose's arm and pulled her towards him, softly whispering in her surprised ear, "Run, and do not look back, you hear me?"

And she nodded, slightly frightened, though she didn't know why.

Squeezing her hand slightly, Scorpius began to sprint, and taking it as her cue, Rose did, too. They kept running, gradually increasing their pace. Rose's stomach constricted and she felt bile rising up in her throat, her breath came out in short gasps with the effort, but they did not stop. She was hungry and drained, and she didn't have much energy. Scorpius was practically dragging her now, lifting all of her weight.

She could have sworn she felt him wince once or twice, but his face showed no distress and he said he was okay, so she let it be. She was tired, and her brain wasn't functioning efficiently enough to ponder if he was lying.

It was only when they had run up several scores of flights of stairs did they stop, a few feet outside the entrance of the Great Hall. Supporting themselves on a statue hidden out of sight, they doubled over, struggling to catch breath.

Scorpius softly whispered, a while later, "Alright, Weasley?"

And she had only enough energy to whisper back "Alright."

And then did she see it.

Scorpius' legs were covered in blood, and even as she watched, more spilled onto the floor. His hair was falling out around an ugly gash that covered most of his forehead, and he stood, his breathing labored, and Rose could see that he was struggling not to wince.

He looked up, surprised, and followed Rose's gaze. His eyes widened a little, but he looked mostly nonplussed.

"I didn't really notice." He muttered.

Rose didn't know what came over her, but she glared at him, and fiercely snapped, "Liar." He laughed out loud, bemused with the situation at hand.

Placing a hand over his throat, he swore, "Promise."

And Rose couldn't help but smile a little. But contrary to Scorpius' relieved expectations, she wasn't done yet. "You practically bore all of my weight, and those…those numpties cursed you this bad, and you didn't even bother to tell me?"

Scorpius waved his hand in the air dismissively, and fixed his wounds with a flick of his wand. Rose stood, awed, for after all, she was her mother's daughter, and healing spells were one of the most difficult to perform. Did the virtuoso even realize that he was in first year?

Guessing the direction of Rose's thoughts, he threw his head back and laughed once more. The boy couldn't get any more surprising, now could he? It was the first time she had seen the usually stoic Malfoy grin so freely.

Then, still chortling, he headed towards the doors of the Great Hall, and Rose stood there, astonished at this blasphemous disregard of her essential questions. She regained her senses a split second later, and ran after him, yelling, "Malfoy, wait up! You have to answer me!"

And trust me when I say that the entire Great Hall witnessed a stroke when they collectively hallucinated about a Weasley running in to actively converse with a Malfoy, the latter of the duo turning around to placate her with a reassuring ruffle of her messy coiffure.

Hallucinated, yes.

* * *

Rose sat up all night, replaying the events of that day. Scorpius had saved her life, despite how she had attacked him, unprovoked.

The detention that _she_ had cost him, played through her mind, and she couldn't help but cringe at how stupid she had been.

The remembrances danced like unbidden memories through her mind, a melancholic silence in the background. The dormitory was dark, but her mind was lit with mounting guilt. She forced herself to remember every detail of that morning, her face ashen and pale, her mind going into overdrive. It felt like molten lead was making its way into her stomach, cold dread gripping her heart with glee.

She slowly got up from the soft mattress of her four-poster, making her way towards the mirror at the front of the room.

Staining a white flecked barn own quill in the inky depths of an old musty bottle, she hastily scribbled down a memo to Professor McGonagall on her parchment. A part of her mind felt that a measure such as this, taken at midnight, was bound to be a little too drastic and would have consequences, but she paid no heed. She had wronged Malfoy.

 _Professor McGonagall,_

 _I would like to request to meet you tomorrow for something important, the truth about some events that have recently taken place, concerning Scorpius Malfoy. What time is preferable?_

 _Yours Sincerely,  
Rose Weasley. _

Then, swirling her wand slightly, she hurriedly sent the note away before she could hesitantly regret her decision to do so.

An hour later, a deep violet memo came in the form of her death sentence.

 _Miss Weasley,_

 _Though I am deeply disappointed at your hasty actions at such an ungodly hour of the night, you may meet me tomorrow in my office at 7 am sharp. Please do not be early_ or _late._

 _The password is "Collywobbles"._

 _Minerva McGonagall.  
Headmistress,  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. _

* * *

Scorpius tested his weight on his injured leg slightly, before plopping down in an isolated chair with a wince. He'd taken to waking up around 7, trying to avoid most of the Hogwarts population before they came down by the dozens. Somehow, sitting alone with the Great Hall dotted with scarcely any students was a lot more comforting than being lonely in the midst of a boisterous crowd.

The house elves, particularly Mindy, whose name he had taken care to learn, had been particularly excited at the prospect of making his favourite dishes for breakfast, and he couldn't help but lick his lips with excitement as he sat down at the end of the Ravenclaw table.

A plate full of blueberry pancakes suddenly appeared in front of him, drizzled with a quarter can of maple syrup. Chafing dishes full of baked beans and cherry tomatoes, vegan sausages, finger sandwiches, cookies, and chestnut mushrooms, took their places at the large table, aromatic spirals of steam rising. Scorpius had been educated all his life on traditionalistic table manners and conduct, but the sight of the platters did make his mouth water in a slightly plebeian way. Father would be ashamed. Oh, well. Scorpius smirked to himself.

And then all of a sudden, a head of flaming red hair blocked his vision. _Weasleys_ , he muttered to himself. They ruled the school, getting innocent people into detention. Sighing exasperatedly, he gave one last loving glance to his pancake before turning to meet the teal eyes of Rose Weasley.

Working on making his tone as sweet as honey, he muttered, "Good Morning, Weasley."  
Rose looked taken aback, it was good she didn't know about his oath to himself. He was sure that he'd have his life made hell if she were to find out.

Her face was pallid, her eyes droopy and sleep deprived. She was still wearing her rumpled bedclothes, and a cable knit pullover over them, as a last ditch attempt to make herself more presentable. Her jumper was worn upside down and the collar hung loose and awry, so the overall effect was a sad one, Scorpius thought to himself.

"Jesus, Weasley, what _happened_ to you?"  
Weasley went red, her eyes going comically wide and slightly hesitant. She opened her mouth, attempting at saying something, then closed it again. And then she thundered out the words he detested the most in the world.

"Professor McGonagall wants to see you."

It was that exact moment that Scorpius broke his childish oath. He flew into a temper, his stray arm knocking back a glass of spiced pumpkin juice. Swearing colourfully under his breath, he slowly turned to where Rose was standing, chewing on her nails desperately.

"Damn you, Weasley! Can't you just let me be in peace for once?! I have done nothing but be extremely polite to you since the moment I've come to Hogwarts, so why the hell are you doing this to me? Can't you just.." he ran a hand through his mussed up hair in frustration, "for god's sake," he lightly swore, "..leave me _alone_? You got me detention on my second day here, Merlin. What am I even supposed to do now?" At the end of his rant, his anger had evaporated, turning into a sort of scared desperation that clung to his thoughts of going to meet McGonagall once more.

He latched onto Rose's arm, and she cried out in surprise. "You're coming with me this time," he growled.

* * *

At a raised eyebrow from Scorpius, Rose slowly rapped with the knocker, answering the sneering gargoyle at the door with a soft mutter of "Collywobbles".

The door swung open, and they stepped onto the moving staircase.

Scorpius hadn't let go of Rose yet, and now at Rose's muffled whimper, he let her go, surprised at his own anger.

McGonagall said nothing, witnessing the whole scene.

She gestured for Scorpius and Rose to have a seat, folding her hands gravely atop the glass tabletop.

She began, and Scorpius gulped. "Mr. Malfoy, my apologies, for calling you at such an odd time, but I'm afraid it was simply necessary. I believe an apology from my side is due."  
Scorpius' mouth fell open. Professor continued.

"Miss Weasley, though her intentions might have been good, decided to message me at a horrible hour in the middle of the night." Rose blushed a brilliant red out of the corner of his eye.

"I spoke to her today morning, and it seems that both she and I have committed a grave mistake, pertaining to you. Miss Weasley has confessed of her misdeeds in relation to you receiving your detention, and has profusely apologized, requesting for a…compensation to be granted to you, and a punishment for her."

Scorpius said nothing, his mind a whirlwind in trying to process what he had just been told.

McGonagall continued knowingly, "Miss Weasley has been given detentions for the rest of the month, and her weekend privileges for the next two weeks have been taken away. She has instead been slated for History of Magic sessions with Professor Binns. And now," she clapped her hands together, "I believe that she has been wanting to say something to you for a long time."

Scorpius slowly swiveled his chair to face Rose's, who had stood up, nervously.  
She bit her lip. "Scorpius, I'm truly, profusely, sorry. I have no idea what came over me. I had wanted to test your limits, but I crossed an unpassable line, ruining your first few days at Hogwarts, especially after all that you've done for me. I cannot say sorry enough." She finished, a sad twinkle in her eye and she looked Scorpius in the eye, her eyes a shade of blue honesty.

McGonagall now stood up, ushering the two out of her office. Scorpius remained mute the rest of the walk down the staircase, the slightest sign of movement showing when they'd reached the outside of the gargoyle guarded door.

Rose kept throwing him sideways worried glances. She wouldn't blame him if he decided not to forgive her after all. For her eleven year old self, she had committed her biggest folly yet.

Scorpius opened his mouth slightly. Rose looked at him expectantly, her eleven year old face concentrating on his next words.

"Rose, I-I forgive you. You've done more than enough to repent, and honestly? I'd never expected you to take such an extreme step. Thank you."

Rose couldn't believe her ears. Malfoy was _thanking_ her, for _apologizing_?

She leaned forward, overwhelmed, and hugged him tightly.

Scorpius exhaled with a slight _oof_ , hesitantly placing his arms around her waist. "There, there, Rose."

Rose smiled, her words echoing in his ear, "Friends?"

And his arms tightened around her, his heart bursting with joy at the thought of him finally having a _friend_ at Hogwarts, something that he'd expected not to have the entire of his school life. Rose wasn't bad, he thought. She had proved her loyalty.

And so, he confirmed gleefully, " _Friends_."


	3. Camaraderie

"So…" Rose started, munching on an apple, as she sat by the Black Lake, her legs crossed, on the last day of school. Scorpius laid by her side, basking in the slight shadow the willow over him provided.

Scorpius arched an eyebrow. " _So_?"

Straying from her train of thought, Rose fell back to the ground with a thump, muttering a groan of satisfaction at the way the thin grass tickled her bare ankles.

"I don't know," Rose muttered noncommittally, and Scorpius laughed.  
He sat up. "No, really, Rosie, what happened?"

Rose's face remained nonchalant, a single eyebrow raised in question. A staring contest of a few minutes led to Rose slowly admitting, "You see, I'm not going to see you before _September_ , and that's like _ages_ away! What if you forget me?"

Scorpius couldn't help but smirk a little. "Aw, is widdle Rosie Posie going to _miss_ me?"

Rose narrowed her eyes, and scrunched up her nose at him. "Nah. I think I'd be rather happy, in fact, if you did forget me."

Scorpius sobered up, but only a little. "I think the question here is, will _you_ forget me? You _know_ I will do nothing but miss you at the summer home. Mum and Dad have this important meeting in San Francisco and they were awfully sad to leave me unattended, but yeah, I told them to go, so…yeah," his voice took on a sad undertone.

Rose's face was a mask of hesitant worry, Scorpius' answer having raised a few doubts in her mind. But nevertheless, she reached out and hugged him. "Never, you big bad bully, not forgetting you, okay? Besides, Uncle George's taking me to Portmeirion for the music festival, so I'll see you there, okay?"

Scorpius noticeably sat up straighter. " _What_ , you're coming to Wales? The festival is just like a few blocks away from my house, Merlin! _You must visit, Rosie!_ "

Rose laughed loudly. "Yeah, 'twas what I was planning on, anyway. Since you're a lazy arse and refuse to visit Cornwall, I thought I'd surprise your bored self." She shrugged slightly.

Scorpius fell back onto the grass and muttered, loud enough for her to hear. "Damn, gotta love you, Rose Weasley."

* * *

Scorpius rushed around the house anxiously as he put everything in its proper place, five minutes before Rose and her Uncle's arrival by floo. The best chinaware was out, dishes of Alfredo fettuccine steaming away on the old white marble counter and long stemmed glasses of apple cider decorating the ornate crystal table.

His neighbours had helped him out, fishing out old dishes from the stuffed cupboards in the house, for he had no idea where to look.

The floo suddenly lit up, glowing green flames parting to reveal a tall ginger with a mischievous smirk painted across his face. He looked around for Scorpius, coming up to him and patting him hard on the back. "Oh, hey, Malfoy's kid, aren't you?"

Scorpius was suddenly struck with a fear he'd forgotten to think of. _What if Mr. Weasley held a grudge against him?_

"Yes, sir." He nodded. "Where's Rose?"

Mr. Weasley chuckled a little, and Scorpius looked up at him, bewildered. "Rosie's coming in a few." He scratched the light stubble littering his chin. "I think I like you. Call me George, Scorp." And all anxiety dissipated at the sight of the blinding grin adorning Uncle George's face.

 _Well, then. That went okay_ , thought Scorpius to himself.

Rose then stepped out of the flames, a thin hood covering her hair from view and her exquisite jumper littered with signs of soot. Briefly creasing her patterned jeans, she dusted herself off, looking up and meeting Scorpius' gaze with a beam.

"Scorpius!" she ran towards him, and he swung her around in a slight embrace.

Her hood now fell off, and Scorpius' eyes went wide. Rose followed his gaze to her now shiny, straight locks, falling neatly to her shoulders, and she bit her lip, giving him a look that said: _Tell you later, okay?_

Scorpius nodded, and gave his arm to Rose. "Shall we?" he mock saluted Uncle George, and the party of three slowly made their way towards the lunch table.

* * *

George was speaking to a few of his mates, discussing plans to inculcate some of the music in WWW products. Scorpius and Rose stood a bit at the back, swaying slightly to the soft marching themes. He now turned to Rose. "Why the change?" he indicated towards her sleek auburn tresses.

Rose blushed a little, giving him a sheepish smile. "All year, everyone's been going on about my untameable curls, _including you_ ," she gave him a pointed look, "so I figured out my bushy hair looked bad like a week ago, and asked mum for a spell to make it nicer. See, it looks better now, doesn't it?"

Scorpius had the decency to look away for a moment, ashamed.

He continued. "Rosie, you've got to be kidding me. Honestly? I preferred the old hair, you look like some sort of model right now." He gesticulated wildly.

Scorpius frowned, noticing the slightly hurt look that Rose wanted to conceal.

He placed his hands on her shoulders, and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. Then taking his wand out, he twirled it a little, sending the curliness back to Rose's hair again.

But she wasn't smiling, yet. So he spelled a cheering charm onto her face, and Rose's eyes went wide in surprise as her lips upturned of their own volition.

"There," he smiled. Then, leaning down and burying his face into her soft hair, he slowly whispered into her ear. "I like this much better. It makes for a soft cushion, you see?" But Rose wasn't listening. So he made a show of inhaling deeply. "And your hair smells better too this way, you see?"

He pulled back to see Rose giving him a weird look, a slight laugh escaping out of her still funnily upturned lips.

He smiled back. "See, Rosie, you don't look nearly as idiotic with shiny hair."

At her raised eyebrow, he muttered lowly, "I don't like shiny stuff, my reflection comes out weird." And then he tried to slick back his hair, gazing at her hair as if it were a mirror.

Rose smacked him over the head. "Stop it, will you? I know you just prefer the curls because you can stuff paper balls in it without me noticing." She glared.

Scorpius held his hands up, sheepishly. "Well, that too. At least I tried?" he muttered hopefully. "I'm sorry, Rosie?" he ruffled her curls messily, to prove his point.

Swatting his hand away, she scrunched up her nose at him.

And it was all better again.

* * *

"Oi! Blondie!" Rose yelled as she slowly made her way towards Scorpius, making her way through the hordes of people jumping to the loud music.

"How many times have I told you _not_ to call me that, Rosie?" he muttered into her ear as her arms slowly went around his neck.

"Oh, shush. I missed you, you know that?" she scowls at him, daring him to contradict her.

"It's not my fault I had detention!"  
"Of course it is, numbskull. Nobody told you to get involved with James and Fred and make a _bad boy_ out of yourself." She mocks derisively.

"Alright, alright, forgive me, will you, o' bestie o' mine?"  
"Always," she grins toothily. "Anyway, where is Susanna? Drunk dancing on a beer table, as usual?"

He pulls back from Rose and ruffles the hair at the back of his neck, sheepishly. "I kind of…broke up with her, last week?"

A resounding thwack echoes onto his shoulder instantaneously. " _What? Why?!_ See, this is why I told you that you're never around. I never get to know stuff, and I've been wondering why Susanna has been moping around the past week. Idiot!"

Scorpius grumbles. "You _know_ you hit hard! I _know_ she is your friend and all that, but…"

She looks up at him and raises an eyebrow. "But what, huh? I'll have to refrain from reminding her about how I'd told her to stay away from you because _you_ , sire, are a casanova, and will have to act like I'm actually reassuring her. Why do you do this to me, Scorpette?"

Scorpius throws his hands up in the air, and then picks up a random suspicious drink and stuffs it into Rose's hands.

"Here, drink up. I cannot deal with you ranting right now, my head hurts."

As the party grows louder, they unanimously count to three and upend their shots down their throats.

They groan loudly as it burns down their throats, then collectively high five, triumphant grins on their faces.

"Here, Scorpette, have this, it's strong stuff!"

* * *

"Rose."  
"Rose, wake up." He huskily slurs, his eyelids drooping.

"Rosieeeeeeee. It's late."  
Rose stirs a little, then flops back onto her stomach. Scorpius sighs, then looks at her position on the floor. Picking her up, he slowly puts her down on the couch nearby, as he can't get into the girls dorms.

Then picking the other side of the giant couch for himself, he falls asleep, too.

* * *

"ARGH. THE SUNLIGHT. IT _BURNS_."  
Scorpius rolls over onto his face, shielding his eyes and ears from Rose's familiar drunken rant.

"Rose, shut _up!"_ He gives up, and tells her to stuff her trap, instead.  
But Rose is temperamental when offended, so she jumps onto his back and falls asleep, as he exhales loudly with the dead weight feeling like a sack of potatoes thrown at him.

"I don't know why I'm best friends with this chick. Gah, just…never mind." He shields his eyes and falls asleep once more.

The fellow Ravenclaws in the room shake their heads chidingly and go about their daily businesses, used to the banter.

Rose, having heard his last comment, aims a kick at him in her sleep, and then resumes her state.

* * *

"Miss Weasley, Mister Malfoy, may I know exactly _why_ you two seem to be sporting sunglasses in my class?"

The entire class whirls around to the duo inconspicuously sitting on a bench right in the middle, their eyes covered with a pair of flamingo like sunglasses and a surly scowl on their faces.

Rose speaks up, softly. "You see, sir, agh…the sunlight is especially _bright-_ Scorpius, _stop_ kicking me!" she glares at her partner, "-so as I was saying, it's especially bright today, and we thought we could shield our sensitive eyes from uh…sunburn! Wouldn't want to miss out on the studying time, now would be? Right, Scorpius?"  
Scorpius doesn't reply, and it suspiciously looks like he's dozing off behind his glasses.

Rose shrugs sheepishly, "Uh…isn't that right-," she jams an elbow hard into his ribs, " _Scorpius_?"  
Scorpius sits up straight and bellows out loud, and then laughs begrudgingly at Flitwick's raised eyebrow.

"Uh, yes, sir, whatever Rose said."

 _"Take off your sunglasses and pay_ attention _if you don't want detention!"_

"Yes, sir!"

* * *

Rose sits on the Ravenclaw common room couch, at her favourite place beside the fire, _Hogwarts: A History_ open in her lap. The portrait hole swings open, and Scorpius appears, swiftly making its way towards her by the sofa.

She hurriedly moves her books out of the way, and in time, too, for Scorpius immediately launches himself onto the sofa, his head onto her lap and his long legs hanging off the tail end of the couch.

A sigh. "Scorpette, must you always do this?"  
Scorpius scowls, and then chooses not to reply. "Okay, _Scorpius_ , why must you always do this?"

He beams, then burrows his head further into her lap. "Rosie, can't you see that your Scorpius is tired? Be generous, I haven't had any girlfriends this week!"  
Rose rolls her eyes, and Scorpius is tempted to cast a sticking charm so they'd stay that way forever.

"You fall onto the couch and disrupt my studying _even_ when you have girlfriends, o bestie o' mine. Quit lying."

But Scorpius is already asleep, strands of his blonde hair curling over her legs. She looks at him with a small smile, then resumes her studying.

* * *

Scorpius wakes up to a book flopped over his head, a rather heavy tome by the looks of it. He sighs. Rose must have fallen asleep studying again. He wonders warily if he should tell her to stop worrying too much about the OWLs, but he thinks of not being a hypocrite in her eyes.

Carefully getting up, he places her books in a corner and shakes her shoulder a little.

"Rosie, Rosie, it's time for breakfast. Up you go."  
She mumbles something in her sleep that sounds suspiciously like "Go away, mum!"

Scorpius narrows his eyes. Cupping her face gently, he flicks her nose. "Rose Weasley, you have been summoned to Professor McGonagall's office!"

Rose immediately jumps up, knocking heads hard with Scorpius in the process. He rubs his forehead ruefully as she turns her sharp gaze towards him.

"I'm honestly so tired of you using that over me. I'm leaving. You're demoted from the position of my best friend." She sticks her tongue out at him.

She slowly makes her way towards the dorms, and Scorpius watches her for a minute.  
"I'll give you my share of pudding today?" his low voice resounds behind her.

"Make that two days, and we have a deal."

Scorpius laughs, before lobbing a pillow at the back of her disappearing head.

Her hands reach behind and catch it within an inch of her hair. "Nice try, Malfoy, but you still need work."

Scorpius shakes his head amusedly. _Rosie. Damn that girl._

* * *

"Remind me again why we decided to do this at 3 am in the freaking night?"  
"The Kitchens, Rosie." His soft voice tickled her ear, both of them hunched close to each other under the restrictive Invisibility Cloak. "We're hungry. Think of blueberry pancakes and chocolate brownies. Mhmmm."

He draws back to daydream about desserts, and Rose looks at him in hilarity. His face holds a vacant expression, the usual smoldering grey eyes giving away to a pleased little pastel. Shoving his shoulder, slightly, she holds back a snort at his befuddled expression as he comes to terms with the real world surrounding him.

"You know," she observes, "we would get there a million times faster if you weren't so bloody tall."  
He draws up to his full height in mock indignation, and Rose shrieks, her eyes going wide. Scorpius seems to realize his mistake, bending over again so that the edges of the cloak barely conceal his feet.

"You're just saying that to make yourself feel better about your height, Rosie." He smirks, ruffling up her hair. Rose looks down at Scorpius' moccasin clad feet, and she thinks she catches a slightly darker shadow in the wavering light of the lamps that adorn the corridor.

She brings a bent Scorpius down to her height. "I think someone is following us. I don't think it's a teacher, or they would have called us out already." Rose looked down to where the cloak brushed the top of their feet, the slight black of their soles still very much visible.

She nods to Scorpius, and counts to three. They both crouch down, the cloak swirling around them, their huddled mass now properly invisible to the naked eye. As per Rose's predictions, the strange shadow stops for a second, swaying a little as if the person were looking left and right for their whereabouts.

She can sense Scorpius's soft breathing on her neck, since his face is practically buried into her hair in attempts of lessening his height disadvantage. Rose isn't really short herself, only about three inches shorter than Scorpius, but she's nimble, and it is easier for her to tuck her legs underneath.

Patting her hair down softly from where his breathing had ruffled them up, she uses her wand to mutter a detection spell from a thin gap in the cloak.

Rose and her wand share a special connection. So much so that she can sense the names of the people she is detecting with a simple revealing spell. And so, it doesn't come as a surprise to Rose when her mind reels with new found information about her followers.

However, she does conceal a gasp when the fog clears and she can sense their identities clearly.

 _Ulga Parkinson – Goyle. Eunice Goyle._  
Scorpius lifts his head slightly from her neck, an eyebrow raised in question.

Leaning even closer, she disgruntledly mutters, "Eunice and Ulga Goyle. Your attackers." She clenches her fist in poorly concealed anger.

Scorpius' eyes widen in understanding and his warm hand closes around her shaking fist. "Relax, Rosie. They can do nothing to us."

Rose scrunches up her eyebrows in frustration. "No, Scorp, you don't understand! They hurt you! They can do nothing to me, obviously," she laughs bitterly, "but they did have the gall to hex you!"

Her eyes fire up with sudden determination, and Scorpius' eyes alight with recognition. But before he can pull her back, she throws the cloak off her, Scorpius still remaining slightly hidden.

"And if I have any say in this, I'm going to find out _why_." Her eyes are sparkling with cold fury.

Scorpius curses under his breath before scrambling after her, proceeding to hide in a vantage point close to the Goyles. He thinks that it would be wiser to help Rose out at the opportune time rather than to risk it so foolishly.

Eunice looks a tad surprised to see the redhead, her curls crackling with electricity. Ulga, however, has a cold smirk adorning her face. "Finally decided to get out of your hiding spot, did you? I take it that that coward boyfriend of yours has run off, leaving you to fend for yourself?"

Rose is many things, but she also prides herself in being rational. Firmly ignoring Ulga's taunts, she smirks inwardly as she watches the latter's smirk drop at her lack of reaction.

"Ulga," she says.  
"Weasley," the latter sneers.  
"I've been researching the effects of a particularly nasty _Ephidocresta_ jinx. You wouldn't have happened to seen them firsthand, now would you have?"

"Of course not, Weaselette," she snaps. "Now, go, run back to your little hiding hole. There is no business for you here."

Rose feigns an innocent, wide-eyed expression. "But I was under the impression that you rather desired my company this fine evening, judging by how you and your partner were stalking us?"

"Oh, nonsense. I would much rather prefer to call it investigation. You were out of bed, and as a prefect, it was merely my job to enforce discipline."  
"Oh, you would know all about discipline, now wouldn't you? Going about hexing innocents, you won't believe what damage a little rumour in McGonagall's ear could bring upon you." Rose insinuates slyly.

Scorpius cusses under his breath, ready to spring into action at any moment.

Ulga steps forward, fisting a handful of Rose's collar. "That little rumour won't exist if the witness doesn't, darling."

But suddenly she's being pushed forward onto the cold marble of the floor, and Scorpius Malfoy stands there, a surly scowl planted on his face and his blonde hair gleaming in the dim light. Rose stands a little to the side, breathing deeply to get the air pressure righted again.

But it seems like everyone had underestimated Eunice.

"Sectumsempra!" he aims at Rose. Scorpius' eyes widen and he leaps towards his best mate, his arms winding around her waist to pull her out of harm's way.

But the curse still hits the side of her face, and Rose immediately falls to the ground, blood pooling around her and colouring the roughhewn stone crimson.

 _Ulga and Eunice are nowhere to be seen._

* * *

His head hurt as he tried to force the sleep from his drooping eyes. Rose lay unconscious before him, the bright crimson of her blood still soaking through the fresh gauze that Madam Sauveterre kept wrapping around her head every hour.

Scorpius wondered why it hadn't clotted yet. He also couldn't determine why, in all his panic, he'd sent an owl off to his father about the spells they had used on Rose.

All of a sudden, his concentration on Rose's shaky breathing was brought to an abrupt halt as the doors were swung open. McGonagall strutted in, her cloak billowing behind her. His father followed in her wake.

The stern Headmistress turned towards his father, as his own eyebrows went up in bewilderment.

"Mr. Malfoy. You must understand that though I'm allowing you to do this, I cannot endanger the safety of my students _especially_ since you are not a certified healer. I will be keeping a close watch."

Scorpius watched as his father firmly nodded, then slowly turned to look at him. He smiled faintly as he gently beckoned for Scorpius to leave his seat. His father took his place, removing Rose's bandages before softly murmuring, "Vulnera Sanentur."

Scorpius' eyes glowed in amazement as Rose's freely flowing blood clotted before him, the gash slowly receding to a thin scar.

Draco turned towards the slightly smiling Headmistress. "Professor McGonagall. I trust that I have served my purpose successfully. I must be going. Please tell Miss Weasley that the scar may or may not recede in a couple of weeks."

Scorpius immediately rushed towards his father, hugging him tightly. "Thank you." He gasped. He had been worrying sick about Rose, and now he knew that owling his parents had been the right decision.

His father clasped his hand firmly, patting him on the back affectionately.  
"Take care, son."

And with that, he strode away into the dark corridors.

Scorpius turned towards Professor McGonagall. "Professor...will Mr. Weasley be...?"  
"No, he won't. Since we had no clear idea of how damaging the spell was, we had thought to postpone a letter to him until tomorrow morning. But now we see that we won't need to, after all. I'm sure Rose will mail her parents once she can sit up. Goodnight, Mister Malfoy."  
And with that, she strode off into the moonlight, too.

* * *

Scorpius didn't realize he'd fallen asleep until a soft murmur woke him up.

"Scorp?"

He immediately scrambled to right himself, kneeling down beside the bed to look Rose in the face.

"Rosie? Merlin, you're _okay_." He breathed, his eyes sparkling with relief.

Rose looked up, her eyes slightly hooded from the intoxicating medicine she had been given. One of the many side effects, but he didn't care. She had woken up, and that's what _mattered_.

Rose stretched her arms out slightly, as if for a hug, and Scorpius leaned forward to let her wrap them around her neck. She had a small grin on her face, though some of her face still grimaced in pain as she moved.

" _Scorpius._ "  
"Yes, Rosie?"

Rose smiled softly, her eyes starting to sparkle. "You saved me, Scorpy."  
And before he could protest to the ridiculous name or the fact that his dad had been the one to save her (Merlin, it was weird even thinking that, but he was eternally grateful.), she reached up and kissed him softly.

Scorpius almost immediately pulled back, and was suddenly drenched with suffocating coldness. The warm cocoon that had surrounded him with Rose's lips pressed to his had suddenly given way to a cold chill seeping into his bones.

But it wasn't right. Not even if it had only happened for a fraction of a second. Rose's lips turned down, her slightly inebriated state evident.

"You don't like me, Scorpy?" she frowned exaggeratedly, and Scorpius sighed, removing her arms from around his neck.  
"Rosie, you're hurt. We'll talk about this later." He leaned forward to murmur into her ear.  
Her frown didn't lessen.

And only when Scorpius bent down to give her a caring peck on her forehead before tucking her in into her cocoon of blankets, did her face break out into a bright beam.  
Scorpius stood, dazed, as she grinned beautifully at him, before shaking himself out of his thoughts.  
"Goodnight, Rosie." He said, ruffling her hair, before rolling into one of the uninhabited visitors' cots beside her bed.

And that night, Scorpius could think of nothing but cerulean.


End file.
